Gentlemen
by SummerMess
Summary: AU. Slash. Set in England in the nineteenth century but the wizarding world still exists. Remus and Sirius meet at an annual Christmas gathering in the countryside.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Originally written as a two part story. Now being reposted as a slightly longer one and part of a series type thing I'm working on. :)_

_Disclaimer: Remus and Sirius (and any other recognizable characters) do not belong to me._

_Rating: M_

_Pairings: Remus and Sirius, James and Lily (implied)_

_Plot: AU. Set in England in the nineteenth century but the wizarding world still exists._ _Remus and Sirius meet at an annual Christmas gathering in the countryside._

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* * *

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**Gentlemen, Part 1**

_England - December, 1820_

The feminine hand resting on his forearm seemed impossibly heavy for such a small appendage.

Clenching his jaw, the black-haired gentleman glanced at his female companion with apprehension. This was not the first time a bright-eyed witch's feminine charms weighed heavily on him. Long eyelashes fluttered against her soft, porcelain skin as she smiled up at him.

She was beautiful. No man – or woman – would deny it.

If he had to be at this damn social gathering, he could not imagine a more attractive woman being by his side.

Nevertheless, as he turned to search the entrance hall for familiar faces, he could not help but try to dislodge the prettily gloved hand from his arm.

He cringed openly as his eyes scanned the dozens of finely dressed witches and wizards waiting to enter the grand ballroom. Every last one of them was involved in some trivial conversation – no doubt gossiping about the latest scandals or doing their very best to incite a new one.

Every year dozens of members of the country's wealthiest families were invited to stay at the Pettigrews' country estate for the month of December.

It was always the same type of people who congregated at these annual gatherings. The only compensation – and it could hardly be called that anymore – was the arrival of new pretty witches who had just been released into society the previous season.

_Pretty witches_, the dark-haired man thought, _like the one currently clinging to his left arm._

With a sigh, he stepped through the doorway into the entrance Hall.

The witch on his arm smiled up at him sweetly and he could sense her eagerness – her incontrovertible pleasure – at being escorted by the eldest Black brother.

He was not so easily thrilled.

It was the first year he would have to attend this particular function without his closest friend and he could not recall a more tedious beginning to the Pettigrews' Christmas party.

Under normal circumstances, he would be battling James Potter for the attentions of the pretty witches. They would spend an entire month charming and chasing – shamelessly placing wagers on who could garner the most attention from the lovely ladies of the season.

_Games_, James' fiancé had called them, _nothing but boyish games._

Not surprisingly, the _games_ had stopped after his friend had been introduced to the green-eyed beauty on their last trip to London. James did not want to join in on the roguish ventures anymore.

Without him, though, the eldest Black was left with little to no competition for the attention of the attractive witches. He had found, almost instantly, that courting a witch was not nearly as enjoyable when there was no one challenging his advances.

Without James, he was completely alone with England's wealthiest and most shallow citizens.

He could not remember why he even bothered to come to this one at all.

Shaking his head at his thoughts, he led his companion into the ballroom where she, like every other female in the room, gasped at the sight of the large Christmas tree in the center of the room. Lavishly decorated with expensive ornaments, it nearly reached the high ceiling of the grand hall.

A quartet sat on one side of the room – holding tightly to their instruments as they waited patiently for the cue to begin playing.

It was nearly time to dance.

Scanning the crowd once more, the gray eyes slid over the many faces of England's elite upper class.

It did not take long for him to notice that many of the room's occupants had turned their attention to one figure in particular.

The dark-haired man was somewhat disgruntled to find that that figure was not him.

He glanced down at the blonde witch by his side and saw that she too was staring across the room.

He reluctantly followed her gaze.

A handsome man stood beneath the mistletoe at the entrance to the ballroom.

Sirius felt an unexpected jolt of pleasure shoot through him at the sight.

_A new rival?_

He studied his opposition for a quick moment. They were of a similar age – he was sure of it – but despite this (and their similar height and build), he knew they looked nothing alike.

Even with his inappropriately tousled hair, the man was undeniably handsome. He had brilliant golden-brown eyes and strong, intelligent features. If features could even be described as appearing intelligent…

Sirius did not blame the women for gawking and, had it not been for the kind smile on the man's face (and the way he bowed politely at every new person he met), Sirius might have felt challenged, threatened even, by the mysterious guest.

Sirius shook his head to clear it.

No. Without James Potter, these kinds of functions would never be the same.

With an impatient sigh, Sirius reclaimed the blonde's attention and prepared himself for the first dance of the evening.

* * *

No matter how late the hour, women never grew tired of dancing.

Sirius suppressed a groan at the tinkling laugh coming from the blonde. It had been _hours_ since they had first arrived at the Pettigrews' for dinner and he was still not used to the weight of the witch's hand on his arm.

He knew that, as the eldest son of one of the wealthiest families in England, every opinion he had would always be correct, every remark he uttered would always be interesting and every witticism he made would be worthy of that damn tinkling laugh.

Sweet Merlin, he needed a large glass of firewhiskey.

That and several villages to put between him and all these fawning women.

They may appreciate his good looks, but it was his money they were after and for that fact alone he had decided years ago that he would never marry.

With a roguish smile that belied his spiteful thoughts, he deposited the simpering witch by a group of other pretty girls and hastily excused himself from their company.

He knew where to find the Pettigrews' study – and, more importantly, where to find the firewhiskey that lay within it. With one more subtle glance towards the mysterious man (who was now politely sipping his drink while a pretty brunette whispered in his ear) Sirius slipped quietly from the room.

Though empty, the hallways were well-lit. Sirius ascended the grand staircase and passed several doors before he finally reached the study.

Like the entrance hall, the room was lit by candlelight and a warm fire. It almost seemed as if Peter – _the Pettigrew's only son and a complete fool who fawned over Sirius almost as much as the women did_ – had anticipated Sirius' desire to escape to the study.

Loosening the collar of his shirt, Sirius poured himself a large glass of Ogden's finest.

He tossed it back quickly.

After two more glasses, he finally dropped down into the leather chair by the fire with a sigh.

_Merlin, how he hated Christmas._

_

* * *

_

Sirius was not sure what surprised him more: the fact that he had fallen asleep (for what must have been well over an hour) sitting up straight in one of the Pettigrews' most uncomfortable chairs; or waking to the sight of the mysterious man from the ballroom sitting in a chair across the room – engrossed in a book and completely undisturbed by his presence.

If under pressure, Sirius might possibly have admitted that the latter surprised him slightly more.

He only had time to blink once before the golden eyes that had been focused so intently on the book in the man's hands rose to focus just as intently on him.

"I hope I did not startle you."

The man sounded genuinely apologetic at the prospect of having alarmed him.

Sirius shivered and turned to stare at the still glowing fire.

"You didn't," he replied tersely.

He saw the man nod his head out of the corner of his eye.

"I had not meant to fall asleep," Sirius admitted after a moment, his gaze still locked onto the fire. "I suppose it must have been the prospect of more dancing."

He heard a deep chuckle escape the man and he had the absurd urge to laugh along with him.

Of course, he did not.

With no small amount of reluctance, Sirius sat up straighter in his chair and opened his mouth to introduce himself to the other man.

"I know who you are, Mr. Black," the man said softly, amusement sparkling in his brown eyes. "And I am Remus. Remus Lupin."

The name was vaguely familiar to him but Sirius could not recall where he might have heard it.

He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

They sat silently for several minutes until Sirius believed the other man had gone back to reading his book.

"I loathe this place," Sirius remarked suddenly, unsure why he wanted the other man to know. "I loathe these people. Every last one of them."

He turned to look at the other man and found the golden gaze fixed on him, relaxed – as if Lupin had been staring at him for awhile now.

The corner of the man's mouth twitched slightly.

"They are perhaps a bit small-minded at times," he admitted. "But one cannot blame a person for something that was instilled within him or her since childhood."

"I can blame them," he replied. "I _do_ blame them."

The other man paused.

"Surely they are not all so terrible...?"

"Yes," he said instantly. "They are."

"The witch you were dancing with," Lupin continued smoothly – as if Sirius had not spoken. "She must be a very lovely young lady. I know her father well."

"As do I," he murmured. "And she is nothing like her father."

The golden eyes studied his face for a long moment before the man released another soft laugh.

"And where do you fit into this world of loathsome aristocrats, Mr. Black?"

They stared across the room at one another.

"Can you not tell?" Sirius asked softly.

The other man raised an eyebrow in question.

"I _am_ one of them."

Lupin studied him for a minute before closing his book and dropping it onto a nearby table. He stood and crossed the room to where Sirius sat in the stiff, leather chair by the fire.

The golden eyes were flashing brightly, even in the dim light.

He leaned down to look deeply into Sirius' gray eyes.

Sirius, for his part, struggled to remain impassive as a knowing smile spread across Lupin's handsome face.

When the man finally spoke, his voice was filled with an almost overwhelming amount of warmth.

"I don't believe you."

* * *

Sirius could think of nothing and no one else.

Not of James and certainly not of the pretty blonde witch he had spent the first evening with.

Lupin was nothing like the rest of the people staying at the Pettigrews' estate. Sirius could not imagine how he managed to be so kind and quiet and humble.

Nevertheless, it did not matter how many tidbits of gossip Sirius managed to collect over the following weeks about the other man.

He was still a mystery to him.

How could a gentleman – and Lupin, despite his disheveled hair, _was_ a gentleman – manage to be anything other than materialistic...selfish...greedy?

Sirius had thought James Potter was the only exception and even _he_ was known for being arrogant at times.

The eldest Black brother prided himself on being able to see through even the most intricate of facades and he knew, without a doubt, that Lupin was not playing a role.

He shook his head in frustration. He could not understand his own fascination with the other man.

They had not been alone in the same room since Lupin had left the study with his eyes still alight with mirth - as if he had known something that Sirius had not – but at every meal during the following fortnight, Sirius' gray eyes searched without fail for the golden ones.

He looked on in silence as Lupin listened politely to the frivolous tales of the ladies and the monotonous tones of the men as they discussed their dislike of the latest Minister of Magic.

Lupin's kind, patient temperament never wavered.

Sirius watched, even when Lupin did not return his gaze – just to see how the striking man interacted with the others. Yet, when one of the women would lean in to whisper to Lupin or innocently place one of their finely gloved hands on his arm, Sirius felt inexplicably protective.

With these people, no gesture was ever truly innocent. Every move was made for a reason.

That, Sirius figured, must be why he kept trying to steal the witches' attention away from Lupin. It was not the same as it was when James had been around. He did not want to prove his superiority.

He was trying to keep the man safe.

It was easy to imagine that these people – both male and female – might taint the man with their very presence.

Sirius knew that he had never felt this protective of James. That fact was irrelevant though. The truth was James could take care of himself and there had never been any need for Sirius to look after him.

Besides, as his gray eyes followed the line of the man's smooth lips as they parted in laughter once more, Sirius began to understand that friendship (even in its earliest stages) can come in many different forms.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N - Thank you to all of you who reviewed and/or added me to one of your lists! No excuse for the long wait – I just could not seem to make myself sit down and write. Reviews are not expected but are always appreciated. :)_

* * *

**Gentlemen, Part 2**

The whole thing was damned tedious.

Another evening spent in the company of the country's cold-blooded elite with little else but endless _waltzing_ to entertainment him.

Clenching his jaw tightly, the dark-haired man scanned the grand ballroom with his cynical gray eyes. He could think of very few things more dangerous than the sweet smiles the witches of the _ton_ habitually bestowed on unattached wizards of good fortune.

Under normal circumstances, the handsome man might use his wealth and influence to his advantage at a function such as this. After all, the Pettigrews' vast estate could provide the necessary privacy for any manner of rendezvous.

However, the predatory stares and the coy glances being directed his way from married ladies and young debutantes alike were not having the desired effect on him that evening. With an expression of nonchalance fixed on his face, the man watched the dancing figures glide across the gleaming floor of the ballroom.

Not for the first time that night, his eyes surreptitiously sought out one guest in particular. Fortunately for him – and his inherent impatience – it did not take him long to find who he was looking for.

Carefully leading one of the Delhems' unmarried daughters in a waltz around the room was the only person who had stirred even the smallest amount of interest in him since his arrival at the Pettigrews' estate.

_Lupin_.

The doe-eyed chit clinging tightly to one of the man's broad shoulders – her other safely ensconced in one of his strong hands – appeared to be genuinely enjoying herself.

Sirius' eyes narrowed.

Since that first night in the study he had spent much of his time observing the other man. By now, he knew that while Lupin's every move was deliberate and sophisticated – a gentleman to the core – his mannerisms were infused with such warmth that the lucky recipient of his attention always felt overwhelmingly at ease in his presence.

Sirius eyed the pair intently from his position in the dimly lit alcove along the far side of the room. He remained unmoving until the two figures made a graceful turn a few paces from where he stood.

The dance was nearly at an end.

Straightening his back, he effortlessly closed the distance between himself and the dancing couple – smoothly stepping up to one side of the pretty, young witch.

The charming smile that graced his face when the girl looked towards him in surprise brought a blush to her pale cheeks.

The dancing couple slowed to a halt.

"Mr. Black," the witch said breathlessly. "What a lovely surprise."

The flush creeping up her neck darkened significantly when Sirius placed one of his hands lightly at the small of her back. He was distinctly aware of where Remus' own large hand rested in the space above the girl's waist; Sirius' thumb grazed the edge of the man's smallest finger.

"You must forgive me for interrupting," Sirius murmured quietly, knowing the effect that his voice would have on the witch. "But I could not resist the temptation."

He glanced over the girl's head and found his gaze caught by the amused expression on the other man's face. The brown eyes were alight and one corner of the man's smooth lips twitched with what appeared to be suppressed laughter.

"Good evening, Mr. Black," the warm voice greeted.

"Good evening," he responded with a nod.

"Mr. Lupin and I were just attempting our second waltz," the witch said unnecessarily. "He has been terribly patient with me this evening."

Finding it difficult to stomach the besotted expression on her pretty face, Sirius looked back up at the other man. His eyes narrowed fractionally at the genuine smile that had spread across Remus' handsome face at her words.

"Is that so?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Oh, yes," she gushed instantly. "I am quite sure that I must be one of the most inexperienced dancers in all of England…but he has been so kind to me."

"I assure you, Miss Delhem," came Remus' earnest reply. "It was an absolute honor to dance with you."

Still unaccountably conscious of where Remus' hand rested above his own, Sirius had the most peculiar urge to break the contact between Remus and the girl.

Instead, he looked back down at her with his most charming smile.

"Well perhaps Mr. Lupin would allow me the pleasure of your company for the _next_ dance?" he requested politely. "I may not have his skill but I can promise you I am just as eager a partner."

The young woman turned a fetching shade of pink and turned to look at Remus expectantly.

An eyebrow raised in amusement, Lupin did not hesitate to nod his acquiescence.

"Of course," he murmured politely.

Sirius felt regret and relief simultaneously flood through him when Remus dropped his hand and stepped back.

With a bow to the girl and another amused nod at Sirius, the handsome man turned and crossed to the edge of the room – leaving the raven-haired man alone with the pretty, young witch.

The thrill which Sirius had felt when he'd first sidled up to the pair disappeared almost instantly.

He felt the witch's dainty hand take hold of his forearm and he finally tore his eyes away from the retreating back of the other man long enough to see the big blue eyes staring up at him.

He fought back a groan.

_Well, damn it all._

Now he was actually going to have to dance with the little chit.

* * *

It was several hours (and far too much dancing) before Sirius found himself safely ensconced in the Pettigrews' study – nursing a rather large glass of firewhisky in one of his hands.

It had taken the better part of the night for the festivities to die down enough for the gentlemen to withdraw from the ballroom for a much-needed nightcap.

Even for Sirius, it had not taken more than a nod from Peter (and the mention of a large glass of alcohol) for him to redirect his retreating footsteps towards the study instead of his bed.

Subsequently, it did not take more than the sight of Lupin's back several steps ahead of him for Sirius to be encouraged to pick up his pace.

Much to his inexplicable relief, his speed had granted him a seat by the fire – and more specifically, the only seat next to Lupin. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction when he realized that the other gentlemen would be forced to settle themselves on the chaise and armchairs scattered across the other side of the room. He had Lupin, more or less, to himself.

The thought put him inexplicably on edge.

Apart from the perfunctory nod of acknowledgement, neither man attempted to engage the other in any manner of conversation.

Sirius, for his part, was avoiding looking at the other man – instead opting to take large gulps of firewhiskey until his throat burned. His gray eyes, fixed on the flames, nearly watered before his shoulders finally began to ease of their tension.

_What was wrong with him?_

He took another swig of his drink for good measure. Only when his head began to buzz dully was he finally able to tear his gaze away from the blazing fire – towards the man sitting across from him.

His pulse quickened.

The glowing brown eyes had clearly been fixed on his face for quite some time.

For a split second, the handsome man had looked like a hunter trying to gauge the next move of his prey. Sirius suppressed a shiver at the thought.

It was a ridiculous notion.

…And yet there _was_ something about those eyes that held one's attention fully. A watchfulness. An intensity.

In all fairness, he could not blame the young witches for simpering over Lupin.

The thought of them nevertheless brought a frown to his face.

"You should avoid the Delhem girls from now on," Sirius advised abruptly. "Especially the youngest."

Any remnants of the intense expression in Lupin's eyes instantly melted away and the man's lips twitched with amusement, just as they had earlier.

_That mouth…_

"Indeed?" Lupin queried, his voice low and warm – and tinged with laughter. "What did Miss Delhem do to you then? Tug on your sleeve too hard? Trod on your foot?"

Sirius scowled.

"That family has four unmarried daughters and a dwindling fortune," he answered back sharply. "I daresay you owe me a bit more gratitude than that for taking her off your hands earlier."

The man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise at the tone.

"You were rescuing me then were you, Mr. Black?" The subtle amusement still had not left Lupin's voice.

Sirius felt his mild irritation increase tenfold.

Exhaling sharply, he set his glass down on the table nearest him. Having drawn the attention of a few gentlemen across the room, Sirius had to force himself to wait for the men to return to their own conversations before responding.

"You are not taking this very seriously," he murmured lowly, his lips barely moving. "She _is_ dangerous."

Sirius paused and indicated the other occupants in the room with a subtle nod in their direction. "_They_ are dangerous."

He looked directly into Lupin's eyes. "_I_ am dangerous."

Unsure why he was so intent on issuing warnings to the other man – and confused by the strength of his own desire to protect him – Sirius exhaled loudly once more and leaned back in his chair.

"I don't understand why you're even here," he said softly. "They are all the same: cruel, vindictive, heartless…"

He swallowed tightly.

"And I am just like them."

Lupin, who had not once looked away from him since they had begun speaking, leaned back in his chair as well.

"Hmm," he murmured thoughtfully, his eyes momentarily devoid of humor. "So you've said."

Lupin raised a hand to his mouth and tapped one of his long fingers against his smooth lips in thought. He stared intently at Sirius until the dark-haired man could not help but look away. Sirius knew enough about legilimency to be discomfited by the attention.

_What might Lupin see if he _were _to look into his mind?_

He shivered almost imperceptibly.

_A man who had spent the majority of his life hedonistically pursuing women, drinking firewhisky, gambling?_

_At least, up until now, he had not been alone in these far from innocent endeavors. Now, though, with James engaged and preparing to abandon their self-indulgent lifestyle, Sirius _would_ be on his own…He would continue on just as he always had unless, like James, he managed to find something else more worthy of his attention.__But what else _was_ there?_

_What he _needed_ to do was to clear his mind. He knew well enough that this was a task that was best achieved by a successful seduction, a large glass of alcohol, or a nice, distracting game of billiards._

"Billiards?"

Sirius nearly choked on his firewhiskey. He did not attempt to conceal his incredulous – and downright unnerved – expression at the other man's words.

_Had_ Lupin looked into his mind? If so, how much had he seen?

_Oh Merlin…_

Sirius stared closely at the other man and did not respond right away.

_Lupin couldn't have…Surely he would have felt the other man's presence in his mind…?_

"Pardon?" he asked finally, fully aware that he had infused that one innocent word with his most aristocratic and intimidating tone.

Lupin merely shrugged.

"Wizards' Billiards," he said again, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "I hear you're a decent opponent, Black. I would like to find out for myselfthough."

Though still thrown by the abrupt turn in conversation – and helplessly distracted by Remus' mouth once again – Sirius felt one word fly to the forefront of his partially inebriated brain.

"_Decent_?"

"Mm," Lupin murmured in agreement.

Sirius felt certain that this must be one of those rare occasions when the alcohol was actually having a calming effect on his temper. How else could he rationalize his abrupt loss of interest in convincing Lupin that he deserved to be amongst better company than those staying at the Pettigrews' estate – that he deserved better company than Sirius himself?

"Are you certain you heard correctly?" Sirius asked, sitting up in his seat and feeling the stirrings of a new challenge flit through him. Apart from James, there were very few members of the wizarding world who were brave enough to criticize Sirius Black behind his back – never mind to his face.

Lupin looked unrepentant.

"Quite certain, yes."

A disbelieving huff of laughter escaped Sirius against his will.

"Perhaps you are not as well-mannered as I first thought, Lupin," he said.

The man grinned roguishly at him.

Sirius' desire to be in the company of Lupin – something which he had begun to feel more acutely each day – swelled within him at the sight.

_What harm would there be in a game of billiards between gentlemen?_

Deliberately ignoring his racing pulse, Sirius sat up straighter in his chair and leaned towards the other man.

"You're a damned liar Lupin," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "And I'll prove it."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N – I'm posting a second update as a (belated) thank you to Miss Heather for being so incredibly encouraging with all of my stories. Been several months but hopefully you're still following this one!_

* * *

**Gentlemen, Part 3**

* * *

The game of Wizards' Billiards that inevitably followed could not, of course, wait until morning.

The small hand on the mantelpiece clock lay precisely between the three and the four – only a few hours left until sunrise.

Naturally, the late hour was entirely inconsequential to the two men. It might as well have been midday for all they cared.

While it had taken several minutes for them to escape the study – and the company of the other gentlemen in the house – neither man felt the slightest inclination to return to bed. The billiards room to which they had retreated was twice the size of the Pettigrews' study and held all the necessary components to create a supremely masculine environment. The furnishings, while perhaps not what one might consider inviting, were surprisingly comfortable. It certainly did not take long for the two men to settle in.

"I should warn you, Black," Lupin announced, grinning at him from the other side of the room. "I have been told that I am a rather formidable opponent."

Sirius let out a small huff of disbelief.

"Indeed? Well, while I was truly moved by your performance in the ballroom earlier, Lupin," he answered. "This, unlike dancing, is not a game for the fairer sex."

The other man's deep laugh filled the space between them.

Although Sirius was not normally affected by alcohol – even in larger doses – he felt sure that the warmth that filled him at the sound must be due to the four glasses of firewhiskey he'd had not twenty minutes earlier.

Still, Sirius did not usually feel at ease in the presence of anyone but James.

At the thought, he glanced over at the other man.

_Merlin._

So the alcohol was not only calming his nerves now but it was affecting his ability to focus as well. The sight of Lupin removing his evening coat would not have been quite so absorbing otherwise.

Sirius watched as surreptitiously as he could as Lupin loosened his cuffs and began rolling up his sleeves. The man's handsome features were open and relaxed – traces of a smile still lingering on his lips. Sirius doggedly ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have left Lupin alone back in the study.

It was too late now anyway.

When the man finally stood ready, he glanced over at Sirius, raising an eyebrow at the attention he was receiving.

"Oh, dear," Lupin said, indicating Sirius' proper state of dress, an expression of mock disappointment making its way onto his handsome face. "Just when I start to think you aren't as pretentious as they say…"

Narrowing his eyes at the other man, Sirius reached up to remove his own coat.

_What a damn – _

He tugged at his cravat.

_Insolent –_

He pulled hard until it came loose.

_Bugger of a –_

"Black?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow at the other man.

"Yes?" he asked as haughtily as he could manage.

"Do hurry."

Biting his tongue, Sirius quickly undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. The golden eyes danced with mirth as he stalked across the room towards the billiard table.

_The nerve._

Snatching up the two finest cues, Sirius tossed one in Lupin's general direction without warning.

It was caught deftly in one strong hand.

Sirius smirked at Lupin's raised eyebrows and gestured toward the table at the center of the room.

"After you," he murmured with a bow.

With a small shake of his head, Lupin turned his attention to the table and carefully approached the humming billiard balls.

The man's concentrated gaze carefully took in the arrangement of the balls with deliberate thoroughness. Much to Sirius' surprise, it was several moments before the man even stepped close enough to rest his cue against the edge of the table. The sudden image of Lupin poring over books about how to excel at Wizards' billiards sprang to mind.

He nearly snorted at the thought.

Surely Lupin knew that it was near impossible to secure a win in this game by _planning_ one's next move? Even the most amateur player knows that the billiard balls are enchanted to act unpredictably.

With a small smile, Sirius allowed his attention to wander to the man's stance. There were a dozen ways his form indicated that, despite any words to the contrary, Lupin was actually a rather inexperienced player.

Sirius did not dwell on this discovery for long.

More intriguing to him right then was the way the man's golden eyes were narrowed in concentration.

_What was it about the man that made him so different from everyone else?_

Admittedly, Lupin exuded a warmth and sincerity that held one's attention fully… but it was more than that.

Clearly there was some, as of yet, unidentifiable feature that drew people to the other man. Whatever that feature was, it was becoming more difficult for Sirius to ignore his attraction to it. Every moment he spent in the other man's company, he felt simultaneously unnerved and more at ease. He could not recall ever developing such a fascination for another human being.

Sirius watched intently as Lupin's careful grip tightened on his cue.

_Those hands…_

Merlin, was it really friendship that he sought? He could not remember looking at James in such a way…

He swallowed tightly.

_That bloody whiskey._

Although it was not the first time his gaze had been caught by the sight of the man's strong hands, it _was_, unfortunately, the first time he had become fully aware of his own inability to look away.

He felt suddenly and inexplicably provoked.

"For Merlin's sake, Lupin," he said roughly. "Pick up your bloody skirts and take the damn shot."

Lupin, for his part, remained unperturbed by Sirius' outburst.

"Hmm," he murmured distractedly. "Patience."

As Sirius waited an intolerably long length of time for the man to take his shot, his eyes were inexplicably drawn – not to where the man's cue would inevitably strike – but rather helplessly to the sight of Lupin's strong arm flexing as he drew back.

Sirius' entire person jolted when the cue suddenly ceased its hovering to slam forward with no small amount of strength.

He barely took notice of the balls moving out of the way of Lupin's shot of their own accord. The ivory ball he'd struck hit another one further along – causing it to bounce off one side of the table and hover on the edge of one of the pockets. The ball made a low, disgruntled noise and tiny little spikes extended on every side as it pulled itself back to safer ground.

Lupin sighed and the black-haired man only just managed to turn his gaze as the man straightened and turned to face him.

Lupin's lips had quirked up yet again.

"Hm," he said thoughtfully. "Well, it appears I am a little out of practice."

Sirius blinked and tried to shake his thoughts – at least momentarily.

When he finally focused and observed the state of the table, he only just managed to suppress an inelegant snort.

The balls were scattered around it – they buzzed and vibrated with impatience. Not a single one had landed in one of the pockets along the sides.

"Sweet Merlin," he said, unable to contain his genuine amusement. "You really should have asked your father for time off from the dancing lessons to improve your performance in more important arenas."

He looked the other man straight in the eye. "You are terrible at this, Lupin."

The man took the censure with good humor still present in both his expression and manner.

"Come now," Lupin replied. "That was only the first shot."

Sirius stepped closer to get a better view of the jumbled display on the table.

"Yes, but surely you could have hit at least _one_ of them?" he queried. "I'm loath to think what your shooting skills are like."

Lupin chuckled.

"Take your turn, Black."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Sirius stepped up to the table, practiced arrogance infused in his every move.

"'_Decent'_," he scoffed softly to himself.

Unlike Lupin, it took Sirius only seconds to bend over the table, aim and take his shot.

Two of the noisy, vibrating balls rolled (one after the other) into a pocket at the far end. Their rather weak grappling proved futile.

Sirius sent an arrogant grin over his shoulder as he stepped around to the other side to take another shot. He felt a small thrill shoot through him when the other man grinned back.

"Impressive," Lupin murmured.

Although he forced himself to look away, Sirius imagined he could feel the other man's gaze fixed on the back of his neck.

The two men remained silent during the course of Sirius' next three shots.

When he finally stepped back (the little ball hovering over the edge of the furthest pocket) his smile was even smugger than before.

"You know, Lupin," he remarked casually. "I rarely get this much satisfaction from trouncing an opponent. I rather think it's an even sweeter victory than those against James – and he actually _is _a half-decent player."

"Yes, well," Lupin laughed softly. "We are not finished yet. I may still be victorious."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think so?"

Lupin feigned deafness to the last and stepped forward to study the layout.

"Didn't we discover that _analyzing_ one's next move is a rather ineffective strategy, Lupin?"

Even as he spoke the jibe in a careless manner, Sirius' eyes drank in the sight of the other man's intent expression.

Sirius' own moves were so effortless that he had never needed to concentrate in such a way – to scrutinize his next move so carefully. Like most things, Sirius' skill at billiards came naturally to him. He had never realized how absorbing it could be to watch someone who was so genuinely determined to perform well…

_How could he _not_ be entranced by such a sight?_

The view led him to speculate on whether Lupin was just as focused and determined in _every_ pursuit. What, Sirius wondered, did the other man look like when he was laying with a woman? Did he forget himself (and his manners) and lose control? Did he become consumed by passion – his golden eyes flashing with lust and desire?

_What he would he give to _know…

_To _see_…_

Still bent over the table across from where Sirius stood, Lupin's eyes snapped up to meet his at the thought.

_Good lord. Surely Lupin didn't know what he had been thinking…?_

"You better not be jinxing my cue, Black," Lupin said testily.

Sirius' jaw clenched.

Any remaining symptoms of mild intoxication had left him so quickly and completely that he might as well have been tossed into the Pettigrews' icy pond.

_What was happening to him? Merlin, if the man knew where his thoughts had been heading…The stirrings of desire that had begun spreading through his body only seconds before…_

Sirius held the other man's gaze until his face burned with shame.

From the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Lupin straighten and take a small step towards him out of concern.

Sirius' first impulse was to try and alleviate the other man's worry – to shake his head and deliver some small quip that would allow them to return to the game…but the realization of where his thoughts had been leading had been vastly sobering. He could not quell his own fear at the longing he felt right then – never mind consoling Lupin.

"Black?" the man murmured worriedly. Lupin set down his cue and walked around the table completely, his gaze watchful and intent.

Sirius barely registered taking a step back in retreat.

He could think of nothing to say right then…nothing that might begin to explain his odd behavior.

He took a deep, steadying breath and, in the end, decided that reinforcing his argument from the first night in the study was the most sensible thing to do. Lupin _needed_ to know what kind of man he was.

"I am no different from anyone else here," Sirius said quietly.

At his words, Lupin's face adopted a look of genuine surprise. It disappeared quickly as the man took another step closer to Sirius.

"Yes," Lupin insisted softly. "You are." The words were spoken so easily and with such assurance of their own truth that Sirius nearly felt staggered.

More than anything, though, he suddenly felt angry.

No one else ever dared to disagree with him.

_What possible motive could Lupin have for suggesting he was not who he said he was – who everyone else knew and expected him to be?_

Sirius was not fool enough to believe that Lupin's kindness was not genuine but, not for the first time, he wondered why Lupin had come to the Pettigrews' estate at all.

_Did the man really associate with the likes of men like Peter Pettigrew on a regular basis? He must – or how else would he have obtained an invitation to the exclusive gathering in the first place?_

_Did Lupin tell Peter, too, that he had faith in his good nature? Did he look him in the eye and assure him that he was not like every other pure-blooded wizard in England's capital?_

The thought caused a sharp pang of jealousy to shoot through Sirius.

Without thinking, he felt his fist tighten.

The idea that Lupin had not voiced those assurances exclusively for him was maddening.

No witch or wizard had ever had such an effect on him before.

_Challenging him…_

_Baiting him…_

_Taunting him with that damn mouth…._

Sirius' fist burned at his side. Filled with an emotion that he did not recognize or understand, he raised his fist and took a swing at the handsome man in front of him.

The relief he felt when his hand did not make contact was immeasurable.

Nevertheless, he stared at his wrist, now caught in Lupin's strong grasp, with a narrowed gaze. He looked into Lupin's eyes and saw the other man's pupils dilate at the contact.

Though intent, the man did not look angry.

"How could you possibly know anything about me?" Sirius growled.

"Instinct," Lupin said instantly, his deep voice a rumble.

"Instinct?" Sirius balked, his grey gaze dropping to watch the other man's lips.

_Damn the man's mouth._

He looked up into Lupin's eyes once more.

The golden orbs positively blazed.

Sirius surged forward before he could stop himself.

As their mouths crashed together, his hands flew to grasp the other man's hair and hold his head in place. He felt Lupin's arms encircle him; the strong hands pressing firmly against his back.

The touch reminded him keenly of where those same hands had rested earlier on the space above the Delhem girl's waist. He growled into Lupin's mouth and shoved hard until the man's back met the wall near the fireplace.

Lupin groaned softly, his hands leaving Sirius' back to tug at the front of his shirt instead. He continued to pull roughly until the fabric came free.

Sirius released his hold on the man's hair – and lips – so they could pull the material off entirely.

Remus threw the shirt aside with little care as to where it landed. His eyes roamed across the expanse of Sirius' broad chest with a growing _hunger_ in them.

After a moment, Remus reached up to remove his own shirt and Sirius felt his already hard arousal swell further at the sight.

He surged forward.

His hands, without thought, fell to Remus' hips…then reached around to grasp firmly at the man's backside.

He felt Remus' deep laughter against his lips.

In the next moment, he was turned and his back was shoved up against the wall where Remus' had been just seconds before.

The man pulled back to grin at him.

In the ensuing heated moments the two men, matched in both height and stature, battled for dominance. Their growing arousals bumped together; their urgent lips strayed to new territory before returning to linger in a thorough kiss.

Such actions might have continued for hours had Remus not decided to push him down onto the _chaise _in the corner of the room. As the man settled determinedly on top of him, they both groaned at the first prolonged contact of their shafts. Suddenly, it did not feel as if they could continue such movements without the inevitable occurring.

Nevertheless, the two men remained in that position, thrusting against one another without thought, until they were both mere moments from completion.

It might all have come to a very pleasurable end, right there on the _chaise_, had the realization of Sirius' own impending orgasm not suddenly struck something inside of him.

No.

He did not want it to end this way.

He wanted _more_ of the other man.

Instantly, Sirius' hands rose and began to tighten on Remus' hips – continuing to do so until he stopped the movement altogether.

He sensed Remus' frustration – and felt sure it must match his own. Indeed, it was quickly becoming difficult to rationalize why he had forced Remus to stop.

Impatient, Remus leaned down and nipped sharply at his bottom lip – causing Sirius' hips to thrust upward of their own accord.

_Where had the calm, composed gentleman from the ballroom gone?_

Hewatched as Lupin's strong hands tried to pull at his tight grip. The man managed to loosen Sirius' hold enough to thrust down once more – _hard_.

Sirius groaned but tightened his hands once again.

"For Merlin's sake," he swore huskily. "Hold still."

Against his better judgment, he glanced up.

Remus' jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck and chest taut from restraint. The sight of the man's face, no longer relaxed or amused, caused Sirius to release a very shaky breath.

"Remus," he murmured lowly, his voice unsteady. He had meant to voice it as a question but it had come out as more of a plea…a whisper.

He had never felt such desire for another person.

One hand still holding tightly to the man's hips, Sirius reached up with the other to trail his fingers over the exposed skin. He continued, fascinated, until he thought he might explode without any other stimulation to his swollen shaft. The other man did not appear to have heard him.

Sirius _needed_ to reverse their positions…but he wanted the other man's permission first.

"Remus," he said again, trying once more to regain the man's attention. Although it was spoken in much the same tone as before, this time Sirius waited until the golden eyes opened and the man was looking down at him once more.

Sirius shuddered.

"Remus," he said huskily, pushing lightly on the man's chest, the question in his eyes. "Please."

At the tone, the other man's gaze intensified. Sirius knew that if the other man did not consent then more precious time would be spent battling for the upper hand. He was not sure he was ready to relinquish control entirely.

To his credit, Lupin realized almost instantly what Sirius was asking. Although he did not attempt to mask his initial hesitation, it quickly became clear that he did not wish to stop and discuss what position they each wished to fill that night.

Right then, desire outweighed reluctance.

With a small but sure nod, Remus relented and allowed Sirius to keep hold of his hips as he rolled them over and reclaimed his position of control.

Sirius settled his hips firmly against Remus' in appreciation. They both groaned once more at the contact.

Burying his nose in Remus' neck, one hand working its way between them, Sirius did not hesitate to release his own arousal – impossibly hard – before doing the same for Remus.

He swore into Remus' neck as he stroked his hand roughly over Remus' hard length.

"Merlin," he whispered.

_Surely this could not really be happening?_

The reigns of his control were quickly slipping from his grasp.

With quite a lot of impatient fumbling, they both managed to kick themselves free of all their remaining clothing.

Sirius continued to kiss and lick at Remus' neck, reveling in the small groans he was pulling from the handsome man.

They both let out harsh sighs when their naked arousals ground together for the first time. Sirius quickly shifted his hips until his hard length settled against the place he sought on the other man.

Instinctively, he pushed his hips forward.

While he was familiar with his position atop another warm body, the sudden desire to possess, to take and claim, was entirely foreign to him. He felt mildly intoxicated again but he knew this time that it very likely had little to do with the alcohol.

As he continued to press forward, he felt the other man exhale sharply and shift at the pressure.

He stopped his forward movement.

Clearly Lupin had never allowed himself to be in such a vulnerable position either.

The realization did nothing but propel Sirius forward – closer to the edge.

Without lifting his head from where it rested on Remus' shoulder, he reached up to the side table nearest them and blindly grappled at its contents.

Naturally, it held nothing that could be of use to him.

"_Damn it all_!" Sirius swore roughly – it took no small amount of effort to break the contact between his hardness and Remus' opening.

Remus jerked slightly at the loss of contact and one hand flew up to hold firmly to his lower back in an attempt to haul him close again.

Sirius gritted his teeth but managed to pull himself away a little more.

While he had found himself in many unexpected situations in his life, he had never before felt the slightest inclination to bed another wizard. Fortunately for Remus, he was worldly enough to know that it was not the same as bedding a woman. He knew that they needed to…prepare…but _Good Sweet Merlin_, he was positively desperate to be inside the other man.

_Was there really nothing they could use?_

Reaching over the edge of the _chaise_, he felt around in the vicinity of their clothing for his wand.

When he finally came up victorious, he cast the only spell he could think of that might be of use.

A clear liquid poured out into his hand and, too far gone to be embarrassed, Sirius stroked himself a few times – shuddering when Remus' watchful gaze darkened further at the sight.

Without another word, he settled back against the other man.

This time, when his hard shaft nudged Remus, the head of his prick pushed in with less resistance than before. He could tell that it was still not entirely free of pain but Remus did not utter a word or sound that might discourage him from continuing. In fact, one of the man's hands was holding tightly to his hip – as if Remus was suspicious that he might try to pull away again.

"Not if Merlin himself burst in on us," he said harshly into Remus' neck.

Remus answering laugh was strained.

Sirius continued to push his length in slowly.

_Merlin._

The tightness was nearly making him delirious.

No woman had ever felt this good.

A voice in the back of his mind suggested that perhaps that had more to do with the _type_ of woman he usually associated with. However, the thought was not nearly enough to distract him from the pure pleasure he felt as he continued to inch forward until his entire length was buried inside the other man.

His breathing remained uneven and he tightened his fingers in the fabric below them to prevent himself from thrusting mindlessly into the other man.

He felt Remus shift beneath him.

"Black," the man muttered thickly. "Merlin. Hell. _Move_."

Sirius tried to communicate his utter relief through a series of brief, rough kisses to the man's neck.

There was one more moment's hesitation before he began pulling out from the sweet, tight heat and slamming back in.

"Fuck," he said softly.

It was going to be quick. There was nothing for it.

Perhaps he should not have insisted on more than a quick rub up against one another. It was not as if he was in any more control of his body's reaction now than when he had rested _beneath_ the other man.

He pulled out and thrust back in twice more – one hand reaching down instinctively to grasp Remus' own hard length. He released an uneven breath that did not go unnoticed by Remus.

Although he did not actually say aloud how close he was, he still heard the other man's murmur of agreement before he felt his release overtake him.

He buried himself deep in the other man and groaned as he watched the tense expression ease from Remus' face – only to be replaced by a thoroughly arousing expression of satiation.

Though he'd already finished, Sirius thrust his hips once more against his will.

_Instinct_.

Remus shuddered.

After a few more moments passed, he opened his eyes to stare up at Sirius.

Something flared between them – a recognition of sorts. Powerful but indefinable. As they stared at one another in silence, Lupin's hand once again came to rest on his back. Sirius thought he felt it tighten ever so slightly. He leaned down closer to the other man in response.

There might have been more but Remus blinked and shifted his gaze to Sirius' bare chest. One corner of his mouth rose in amusement.

"Merlin, Black," he said quietly. "All I did was tell you not to jinx my cue."

Sirius shifted but did not laugh; he could not have laughed if he'd wanted to. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of a much more serious nature – most significantly of which was the fact that he was still buried to the hilt inside the other man.

More unsettling than anything, though, was the sudden comprehension that it would not take long for his body to be prepared to repeat what they had just done.

He swallowed tightly.

He knew they could not. A house elf might appear at anytime and the Pettigrews' servants were not known for their discretion.

He reluctantly pulled out and felt a strange ache fill him – as if it had been Lupin who had pulled away from _him_.

_What did it mean?_

Feeling both restless and exposed, a strange sense of urgency flooded through him.

He needed to know if he would feel such pure, unadulterated pleasure again.

Swallowing thickly, he stared down at the other man, aware that his eyes must still be lit by the strength of his desire.

"Remus," he said seriously.

The other man raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

His jaw clenched for a moment but he could not stop himself from uttering the next words.

"The guests will all be leaving in a few days," he murmured.

"Mm."

He leaned down and buried his nose in the man's neck. He did not say anything for several seconds – reveling in the warmth of the other man. He had never been this close to someone who was so inherently _good_. He felt a strange fear of pulling away. Of losing the feeling.

He felt his desperation rise and he tightened his grip on the other man.

Around them, the air buzzed.

"Remus," he breathed urgently into the man's ear. "Leave here with me."


End file.
